


bed.

by DictionaryWrites



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Flirting, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 07:16:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17361449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: Reese stays on Finch's couch.





	bed.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rudigersmooch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rudigersmooch/gifts).



> Just a little fandom stocking thing for rudigersmooch! Hope you had a good holiday! <3

Outside, there’s a thunderstorm, and Reese sits down on the couch, his legs crossed loosely underneath him, his back against the couch’s plush, leather backing. There’s been… An _altercation_ at his apartment, and just for a night, he’s staying with Finch, sleeping on his couch. Just for a night.

It’s… It’s nice.

Not as nice as he’d expected, what with all the cash Finch seems to have on him, but _nice_ – nice for a university prof, anyway. There’s an emphasis on soft furnishings and on warmth – the couch and chair are both made of dark leather, but both of them are covered over with thick woollen blankets, and there are all kinds of rugs on the floors, covering up the laminate floor, and the bookshelves are all _full_.

Mostly of maths textbooks, but of the classics, too, in a few different languages.

“You like detective stories?” Reese asks quietly.

Finch is watching him from the doorway to the bedroom, his mug of evening tea in his hands, and he raises one eyebrow, following Reese’s gaze. Neatly organised on the top two shelves, bound in cloth boards, are a _lot_ of Agatha Christie books, mostly Poirot, but Reese sees some Miss Marple, too.

“You know, Agatha Christie is still the most-translated author in the world,” Finch says. “People think it must be Shakespeare, or a holy text, but no, it’s her.”

“Do you like detective stories?” Reese repeats, ignoring this trivia.

“I guess,” Finch says. “I’ve only read one or two of her books.”

“You’ve got them all, though.”

“Needed to fill space on the shelves,” Finch murmurs. “Picked these up secondhand.”

Above them, thunder rolls across the sky, and Reese leans back as Bear jumps up onto the couch, dropping himself back into Reese’s lap. Reese smiles slightly, dragging his fingers through the fur around Bear’s neck, looking into his deep brown eyes as he looks up at him.

“What, you scared?” Reese asks softly.

Bear whines.

“Liar,” Finch mutters, and Reese playfully rubs over the ruff of thicker fur on Bear’s chest. “Fine, fine, you can have him tonight.”

“Oh, _thanks_ ,” Reese says.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Finch says, and Reese laughs, turning to glance at him. Finch’s lips barely move, barely quirking up at their edges, but he’s doing that thing where his eyes show the smile for him, behind his glasses.

“G’night, Harold,” Reese murmurs.

“Good night, John,” Finch replies, and Reese slowly lies down on the couch, letting Bear creep up his chest so that he can shove his nose under his chin, dragging the blanket over them.

Lightning flashes over the sky, and Reese calls, “Don’t worry, Finch. You can come grab me if you get scared. I’ll read you a bedtime story from the most-translated author in the world.”

A beat passes, and then a second.

“Go to sleep, Mr Reese,” Finch finally replies, his voice barely carrying in the blanket-insulated confines of his cosy little apartment, “and I might let you cook me breakfast in the morning.”

John laughs, tipping his head back onto the pillow, and he lets his eyes close shut.

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up [on Dreamwidth](https://dictionarywrites.dreamwidth.org/2287.html). Requests always open.


End file.
